


They Know This

by possiblecontent



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Original Trilogy, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: Dins hands are calloused as fuck, First Date, First Kiss, Fluff, Fluffy, Good Parent Din Djarin, Grogu is named Gregory but in his head he calls himself Grogu, Luke Skywalker is a Sweetheart, M/M, POV Grogu | Baby Yoda, Some Spanish, Star Wars Modern AU, can u tell i have a thing, like sooo much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-03
Updated: 2021-01-03
Packaged: 2021-03-13 03:22:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28521603
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/possiblecontent/pseuds/possiblecontent
Summary: “This is Luke, Gregory. He is going to be having dinner with us. Remember that I told you we’d be having dinner with someone significant?” Dad asks so gently, and his rough hands run through Grogu’s hair. It’s like being scratched.Grogu nods once more and Dad breaks into an even bigger smile, though by a lot of standards that’s not very large. Dad’s smiles are always like when comets fly past the moon, so sudden and shocking and a reminder of how truly small Grogu feels in this bigger universe he calls home, this feeling that’s so overwhelming.He loves Dad. A lot.
Relationships: Din Djarin & Grogu | Baby Yoda, Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker, Grogu | Baby Yoda & Luke Skywalker
Comments: 24
Kudos: 312





	They Know This

**Author's Note:**

> Not enough outsider povs or modern aus yet, so I took the initiative and dabbled in some of that for my dinluke buddies out there. 
> 
> The idea is that Din works as an auto mechanic. Din speaks Spanish sometimes. Hes tired. This is the way! And this fic is him introducing Grogu to Luke for the first time. It's in Grogu's pov bc Im still testing the waters with Din and Luke's characters, but I think I could definitely write a second and a third fic for this in their povs that dive more into detail about their date. I just wrote in Grogu's pov bc its easier for me and also i love him and i am projecting and actually i want din djarin to be my dad but thats an entire can of psychological issues i can deal with on another day. 
> 
> Enjoy!

Dad always smells like oil. He comes home every day with grease etched into the print of his fingers, darkening his already brown hands. The metal hides under his fingernails, and Grogu is sure that’s why the pads of his fingers are so rough, scratching just about as much as the shadow on his face does whenever he presses them to Grogu’s cheek. 

Today they are clean. Dad doesn’t smell like oil at the moment. Something spicier. 

And his hands are shaking.

Grogu isn’t sure why, because things don’t typically scare his Dad. From what Grogu can see (and Grogu sees all), Dad is very big, which means he’s very intimidating. That’s how they’ve made it this far, because Dad is large. He’s an eclipse, a dark day, an experience.   
  
The man in front of him, however, is like looking into the sky. Grogu doesn’t look away. Dad reminds him he’s not allowed to look directly into the sun, though Grogu is pretty sure he’s not supposed to look up at the eclipse either, and what’s the difference anyway? Grogu likes looking, he’s curious, because the man in front of him is not big or large or intimidating. He is the embodiment of the color blue, even though he’s not wearing any other than what’s in the eyes on his face.    
  
Grogu watches moon dust fall from Dad’s lips. It must burn in the atmosphere, because the man in front of them smiles so softly, giggles and blushes, it’s blinding. Grogu hopes Dad doesn’t get cancer. He should definitely be using lotion anyways, the roughness of his skin is already proof enough of that.   
  
Suddenly, the sky is turned on Grogu, and the blonde man bends down to his knees, his smile still so kind and gentle. “So, you must be Gregory, then?” He asks, and Grogu feels as though he needs to put on Dad’s sunglasses.    
  
Grogu nods simply, before looking up at Dad, who looks back down at him. He’s wearing an expression that Grogu isn’t sure he recognizes, which is new. It’s nervous, it almost matches the look he wore the first day he dropped Grogu off at school, though it’s painted with something else. It’s the expression Grogu catches moments before he falls asleep to the sound of Dad’s Spanish, when he’s preparing to send him up into the night sky, where the cinema plays dreams.    
  
So Grogu does recognize the expression, he supposes, just not the combination. Not that nervous look of love. Not anything like that. Dad isn’t usually this dynamic, though he’s always been terrible at hiding his facial expressions. He always looks like he’s holding back, but it’s kind of painful to watch almost. Grogu loves that about Dad. His eyebrows are the most telling: they always shake. They tremble like his hands do right now.   
  
“Not much of a talker yet, but when he opens his mouth it’s always something special.” Dad says in that voice of his, the one he uses when he’s thinking of or looking at Grogu. Grogu knows this because he’s never heard Dad use this voice for anyone else.  _ Gregory es importante. _ They both know this.    
  
“Sounds about right.” the Sky Man agrees, and Dad chuckles so softly, so deeply, the tremor rings to Grogu’s toes. They’re connected like that. They both know this.    
  
“This is Luke, Gregory. He is going to be having dinner with us. Remember that I told you we’d be having dinner with someone significant?” Dad asks so gently, and his rough hands run through Grogu’s hair. It’s like being scratched.   
  
Grogu nods once more and Dad breaks into an even bigger smile, though by a lot of standards that’s not very large. Dad’s smiles are always like when comets fly past the moon, so sudden and shocking and a reminder of how truly small Grogu feels in this bigger universe he calls home, this feeling that’s so overwhelming.    
  
He loves Dad. A lot.    
  
Grogu hears Luke ask a question directed at Dad as they walk into the diner, but Grogu is focused now on the shining neon lights of the burger place. His stomach is rumbling. He can’t wait to devour everything in sight.    
  
  


  
  
  
  


Dad and Luke are dating.   
They both do not know this.    
  
Dad’s eyes are always sad. It’s not a bad thing, just something Grogu knows. It’s as honest and as true as the day when it spins to night, as obvious and as clear as the moon and the ocean. Dad always looks tired, sleepy. His exhaustion is as prominent as the finger prints he leaves on the door he has to scrub every Sunday, because the house is painted white and Dad hates it but he can’t be bothered to repaint but he can stand scrubbing the grease off the walls once a week.    
  
Dad has sad eyes. He’s not necessarily sad, just something Grogu knows.    
  
Seeing Dad with Luke is like watching him sip coffee in the morning, right when the sun hits his eyes and turns them hazel honey. Grogu sees Dad, trembling hands and all, relax just slightly as the warmth seeps through him, and because they’re connected, Grogu feels it too. When Dad’s eyes finally fill and twist with that glow, his face lights up and it’s like Luke opened the blinds at home.   
  
Luke is polite and calm, like a soft afternoon breeze on a spring day. Grogu sees picnics and green trees, sand grains and ocean waves. It’s a kind of schedule Dad wouldn’t come up with himself, because Dad doesn’t really like going out if it isn’t just to ride his motorcycle when the sun kisses the horizon. Grogu, looking at Luke now, forms a plan to mix that type of day up. He doesn’t see why they wouldn’t be able to wake up at dawn instead to make it to the beach on time, even if the water would be cold. Luke could make it warm for them, if Dad just asked.   
  
Grogu watches Dad’s shaking, clean fingers slide over the table after he and Luke sing their laughter at the diner, as if the whole world is watching them. Dad’s hand slowly takes Luke’s wrist, presses his thumb to his heartbeat. Grogu knows this because Dad does this to him every morning. He says he does it to make sure the sky is still moving.    
  
Grogu sees Dad and Luke seep into an oil painting, glowing and texturized, a mixture of both soft and rough to the fingertips and yet so distant from reality, a moment only seen from the outside; curious.    
  
Grogu witnesses glass break the moment from across the restaurant, watches Dad rip his hand away and bump his chair into the wall behind him. Grogu slowly turns to observe the poor waitress scooping up the shattered cup. When he turns back he sees Dad trembling again, but Luke wipes the expression with a brush of his hand, and just as quickly as Dad’s heart rate had grown, it settles. Grogu knows this because Luke takes Dad’s pulse.   
  


  
  
  
  
  
Grogu is sitting in the truck when Dad kisses Luke goodnight. Grogu doesn’t see how Luke flinches just barely under Dad’s callouses, but Grogu knows Luke’s skin is soft so it makes sense. Grogu hates it when Dad touches his face too. He needs to seriously use lotion, even if he doesn’t burn under the sun.    
  


**Author's Note:**

> My tumblr has dinluke fanart and other sw bullshit on it! Check it out: https://dinsarmor.tumblr.com/


End file.
